Earlier this week I sat down with my friend, the lovely Miss Candy Samples, an actress
to record an episode of her podcast.


The episode is now available on iTunes.
Listen now.

Open Wide::Coney Island Film Festival

It is my pleasure to announce that the music video for Open Wide has been chosen as an official selection of The Coney Island Film Festival.

Thank you to Rob Martin, everyone at Bizarre F.A.R.M., The Gender Offenders, Brian Maschka, Marc Carpentier, Kim Levering, Carrie Thomas, and Laura Oltman.


The festival is September 28th-30th.
More details to come..

Friday & Saturday

Last Friday, I was supposed to go with K. to see The Year of the Dog.
Due to a mixup on the Angelika's website, we ended up in a theatre
clutching tightly to one another with a giant bucket of popcorn inbetween as
we watched 28 weeks later. I enjoyed the first movie quite a bit,
but this one was a bit too gruesome for me.
There were times where I had to turn away from the screen and bury my head in K's chest.
It scared the bejezus out of us. I think I still have claw marks on my arms.


We slept until noon on Saturday and then went to the park to look at the swans and take in the grandeur of nature. The one thing that we both found disturbing was how much trash people throw into the park. You see a beautiful pond and a swan family and then a floating plastic bottle. Despite this, living close to the park is so great. Though we could have spent all day there, we both had things to do. We took the train to queens so that K could go home and I could get my keyboard. I then rushed back to Brooklyn to grab some things out of storage, shower and eat before running into the city for soundcheck. The usual lack of consistency and order that is the trademark of the New York subway system sent me on a roundabout journey on trains I never even knew existed into a near brush with the underworld and the mole people.

I found myself running through the streets of the west village guitar in tow, trying to get to the duplex for soundcheck. I arrived drenched in sweat and was greeted by multiple people asking me if it was raining outside.
"No, I replied. That's just my sweat."

I batted my eyelashes and managed to use my manly whiles to get a fresh shirt for the show from the very sweet official guardian of the Gender offenders T-shirts, Mister Brian Maschka.

Before I knew it, the duplex was stuffed full. The house was packed. There in the audience was K. We occasionally were able to steal glances but for the most part I was in work mode. I did two sets....applause applause. After the second set I ended up standing on top of a toilet with my guitar in a dressing room that is more like a hallway as the dragqueens changed outfits for their final number. I was given the task of holding a wig and stuffing anything into Candy Samples' bra that might be hanging out. In case you hadn't figured it out, this was the highlight of my night.

I hung out for a bit with the lovely Jeff Cubeta, and the Gender Offenders who gave a stellar performance that night.
I left on the early side knowing that I had to get up at 5am to catch a bus to New Paltz for their pride celebration. I will sleep when I'm dead.

(Coming Soon...Sunday in New Paltz)

The Heavens and the Ceiling Part

On Friday, I moved into my new apartment, which was an exciting albeit strange experience.
The floor had just been redone and coated with Polyurithane. Perhaps it needed another day of airing out before
I slept there, because I woke up throughout the night weezing, sniffling and occasionally hacking. I woke in the morning with a dry charred throat and the voice of an aged sailor on his sixth glass of whiskey.

I felt as though every drop of moisture had been sucked from my body.
I got up and drank massive amounts of water and took a long hot shower.
Amazingly, I rehydrated almost immediately.
I had a bit of concern since Saturday was the marriage equality march and I would be performing as both myself and Kitt & Kaboodle.

I threw on some clothes, grabbed my guitar, stuffed my guitar tuner and an assortment of cables into my bag and ran for the train, stopping quickly between to grab some coffee. Without coffee I am generally a zombie. I got to Cadman Plaza and hung out and waited for soundcheck while socializing with the other performers and doing cartwheels on the astroturf. The heavens parted and the water began to pour down. We did not let fear of electricution or slipping off the stage onto the concrete deter us from the task at hand.

We got the word that the marchers were coming across the bridge. Soon we saw a crowd of umbrellas approaching.
Sadly, the crowd was not very big. As much as I want to say that people gathered in huge numbers to fight for their right to equality, that is not the case. I supposed if there had been an open bar or gogo boys involved that maybe it might intice people to get off their lazy apathetic asses and pretend that they care. Sadly this event was not even listed in the local rags full of picture after picture of half naked boys,dragqueens and drunken club kids.

If we care this little about our rights, then why should anything change? What does it take to unify and mobilize a group of people? When did we give up? When did we decide to just sit back and let the world happen without screaming in outrage? If we aren't willing to fight for change, then we will not get it. If we aren't doing something to make things better, then we are part of the problem. It is time for us to wake up. It is time for us to pull our headphone out of our ears, put down our cellphones, turn off our tv's and flood the streets with picket signs. We can't just sit back and let life happen to us. It is not a TV show. We can't switch the channel. We have to live it. UNPLUG and REACH OUT.

On Sunday, I slept in and started to get a little more settled into my new home. However on Sunday night I heard water dripping and was sure I didn't turn the shower all the way off. I walked into the kitchen to find that the dripping was coming from my wall. Water and formed bubbles in the paint and was oozing out of these pockets and down the wall. A large bubble formed on the ceiling and was also oozing liquid. I called my landlord and hopfully this will be fixed today.
Despite water falling from the sky and from the ceiling, I am thrilled to have been a part of the wedding march and thrilled to have a new home. Nothing in life is perfect. We all have to dig in from time to time, put on the work gloves and grab a paintbrush, fill in the cracks and wipe the sweat from our brows.

Losing it for Art

This last week was full of excitement, stress and more coffee than any human stomach should have to endure. On Friday I sort of had a breakdown if that's what you would call it. Maybe it was a panic attack. I'm not sure.

On Saturday I officially lost my mind and was strapped into a straight jacket. I was thrown around by the nurses pictured here, at one point hitting my head hard against a wall. I realized why the cells are padded and just how hard it is to have mobility and sanity in the confines of a straight jacket.

I will never forget nurse Veronica or Nurse Betty or for that matter the hospital administrator with an iron fist. They thought they could keep me locked up, but they were wrong.